Serial
by Mikaela's Spade
Summary: Another horror story from the depths of my mind's abyss. Someone is having all sorts of bloody fun in New York, and the Police haven't a clue. Contains multiple murders, hints at extreme violence, blood, you name it. Hope you enjoy it!
1. Masquerade

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT, I just like messing with their lives.

* * *

Halloween.

Darkness clouded the cityscape, enshrouding it that which brings nightmares to life. Or not so, as children scampered through the streets, accompanied by their respective parents, or group of semi-responsible teenagers charged with keeping their baby brothers and sisters safe from debilitated prowlers that sometimes frequent cities during the fright-fest known as October 31st.

Amongst the costumed parade, four masked creatures stole along the rooftops, intent on keeping at least portions of the city free from danger, and rescuing those unfortunate to fall prey to the true freaks of the night.

"Dude, check out those costumes!" Michaelangelo, the prankster, exulted, pointing to several sixteen or seventeen year olds walking up the steps to an apartment below. They were dressed up to several levels of gruesomeness, either as villains or classic horror stars, say, Dracula, or Frankenstein. "Why can't we never go out and get some candy? Every year we miss out on this spectacu-mondo fiesta, going out on patrols." He whined to Leonardo, the pack leader. "We'd have the best costumes out there!"

"Mike, give it a freaking rest." Leonardo growled, pinching the bridge of his beak in frustration. His headache just wouldn't seem to go away. He'd had one ever since they'd left the lair several hours ago and split up on their nightly patrols. Upon reuniting, this one had kept insisting on going down to join the festivities. Every so often they could catch glimpses of kids getting candy, hearing party music going on, and the screams of half-frightened, half-excited teens at the scattered haunted houses in the city. "You know that this is probably the biggest night for ugly crimes." Raphael, who leaped down onto the rooftop for that part snorted in disgust.

"He ain't kiddin' eitha," The red-banded one spat on the rooftop before moving to the ledge near Mike. "Already I've had ta break up three-odd knife fights and a few brawla's looking fer trouble with the kiddies."

"Ditto," A new voice piped up. Leo and Mike turned to face the newcomer, Donatello, but Raphael merely glanced in his brother's direction before tuning back into the candy chaos on the streets below. "I got attacked by some rogue Foot that'd cornered a few kids on the corner of 8th and Main. Turns out they'd refused to pay up for some pot, but with a little re-direction, they're safely home now." Don chuckled lightly, "That is, if my 'costume' scared them enough."

Mike laughed. "Donnie, that is so not like you!"

"Ah, Halloween is the one night where we can run wild in town without true fear. Why not have some fun with it?" Don reasoned.

"Right on." Mike concurred, throwing a smirk in the Leader's direction. Leonardo rolled his eyes and moved to the ledge, leaning over it, similar to Raphael.

"So other than that, we haven't seen much action, eh?" He asked. Raphael nodded, eyes glued to a cute redhead in a sexy devil's costume, giggling with her boyfriend and their friends. The group turned down an alleyway, the girls shrieking in mock-fear of their guy friends advances. Leonardo rolled his eyes again, muttering. "Kids."

"Sure, like yer one ta speak, leadah-san." Raph muttered back in his thick Brooklyn accent, pushing off the ledge to land lightly on the fire escape below. The remaining three followed, Mike eager to see more of the legendary festival. It wasn't their first, but he always seemed to get excited over it, similar to each Christmas.

The quartet of shadow warriors moved off into the night, keeping an alert out for out of place activity and attacks from any direction.

Soon enough, ear shattering howls filled the night, faintly from their previous location. All four brothers raced back as fast as they could, dread growing.

"Dudes," Mike panted from the exertion, "That doesn't sound like happy screaming, no way."

"Exactly, Mike," Don heaved back, leaping over an A/C unit, "That's why we're going back."

"Yeah, well you never know, it could be a trap." Mike shot off at his brother. "The Foot aren't above that, you know."

The lead turtle stopped short quickly enough to cause the youngest sibling to bump into the eldest. 'Leo, what the shell is that all about," He started, cut off by the Leader's hand sharply raised. Upon seeing several screaming teens and adults running from a specific alleyway, Leo drew a katana, pointed down into the darkness of said location and vaulted- his brothers in hot pursuit.

Reaching the scene first, Don nodded towards a body spread out on the ground, limbs bent at unnatural angles. Whoever it was looked no older than thirteen, judging by size and shape. Mike gagged silently as light began to reveal pools and splatters of blood and gore along the concrete, running down at an angle to the manhole under the body. A 'psst'-ing caught his attention from the horrific scene.

Around a large green dumpster the youngest turtle caught sight of his brothers Raphael and Leonardo gently removing a body, what remained of one, off of the brick wall. Donatello, following Mike, sighted the mutilations and severed body parts strewn about; promptly vomiting all of dinner up. Michaelangelo looked just as bad off, paling to near white as he took in the grotesque setting.

Apparently, from what Leonardo was able to discern from the evidence, there had been an attack, most likely with blades or blunt objects from one or more persons. In five minutes, someone or something had managed to disable three strapping male teens, and four teenage girls, rip into them with all the care of a jackal, severing limbs, eviscerating entrails and gray matter, smashing the women's' skulls and mutilating the genitalia of all the group members; still with time to evacuate the scene before being noticed. However, that was disproven by a quavering Donatello, who pointed out the level of congealment of the blood and tearing from rats and other infestations- indicating that the murder had taken place up to an hour prior to the screaming discoverers. Leonardo shook his head, swallowed deeply, and aided his brothers in inspecting the crime scene for clues.

Even Raphael looked squeamish as he carefully took hold of the quartered body hammered into the brick structure. The torso had had all attached limbs brutally shorn off. All that was left was a ragged, bleeding shell of human flesh and bone.

Sooner than expected, sirens wailed softly, then louder as squad cars approached. The four brothers, in the midst of regarding the bloody spectacle did what they could to respect the dead, and then fled, their own safety now the top priority.

* * *

_"And with what is now referred to as the Halloween Horror, the bodies of the teens are identified as follows: Jennifer Connor, Amelia Ferdinand, Mark Kiershen, Jason Boroughs, Samantha Evans, Emi Sakato, and Richard Smiths were all victims of a brutal multiple murder on All Hallows Eve, last night. City hall has not yet released a list of possible suspects, but the Chief of Police, Chief Sterns has issued a citywide announcement that the possibility of a curfew may come into effect. Later, Mike Williams of traffic will relay that a fifteen car pileup on the FDR…"_

April switched off the droning television set, mutely giving the Turtle family her condolences. She'd been shocked to her core when she'd arrived upon the scene; the bodies had been removed, but the blood and gore had not yet been touched, still littering the alleyway in a hellish spectacle of intentional violence.

"When you guys got there, is that all you saw?" She asked hoarsely, affected.

"Sorry April, but that's all we saw." Leonardo said, speaking on behalf of his family, the youngest brothers slightly shell shocked into silence, and Raphael simmering with a barely contained rage. "They'd been arranged, as far as we could tell, into some semi circle around the body on the wall. I think the murderer had an idea we were coming, though."

Casey, who had April wrapped up in a protective embrace, spoke up. "What makes ya say that, Leo?"

"Well," Donatello managed quietly, "One of the bodies had been left in disarray at the mouth of the alleyway, which I assume means that the killer decided to cut his losses and run while he still had a chance. That, and all the heads were missing."

"God damn it!" Raphael snarled softly, unfolding his arms to clench his fists. April looked at him expectantly. Raphael glared at anyone and everyone in the room. "We let him get away."

"No, we didn't let him get away," Leonardo interjected hotly. "And neither did YOU. None of us were prepared for that- NONE of us." He glowered at his hotheaded sibling, letting him know it wasn't anyone's fault they didn't pursue the criminal. Raphael had poured more of himself into their routines since Master Splinter died, those years ago, easing up on the rest of the family when the weight from the elderly rat's death had settled.

"So what do we do?" Michaelangelo asked, his tone betraying his fears. "There's a maniac on the loose, and we don't have a clue about him!"

"Or her, mind you," April added, nestling deeper into Casey's arms, her eyes haunted. "Guys, I don't mean to add more to the list of grievances, but I'm scared."

"It's ok," Casey soother, nuzzling her hair. "You got us to protect you!" He said, flashing a cocky half-grin at the group occupying their living room.

"D'you guys want to stay here tonight?" April asked, trying to ease the tension that seemed so thick, even Leo's katana couldn't possibly cut it.

"Thanks April." The brothers replied in their own ways. Mikey gave April a hug.

"I claim couch!" he yelled, jumping over the back to flop sideways on the cushions. Donatello threw a pillow at him, saying something about how seniority had benefits, or something.

Needless to say, fears ran rampant that night.

* * *

A few weeks later….

Mikey had gotten over the brutalities and become more chipper than he'd been that night, and the nights that followed, even after the heads had been discovered, the eyes carved out of their sockets. The nightmares had stopped, Raphael had still conducted his midnight rampages through the bad-guy ranks, when, close to Thanksgiving, he'd come upon a scene much like the one weeks ago.

"Guys," Raphael sounded strained over the shell cell Donatello had pressed to his ear. "We've got another… mess to clean up."

Don nodded to himself. "I'm on my way Raph. I'll let Mike and Leo know to come too."

The brothers stood over the cadavers lined up against the wall, all missing their heads, similar to the last encounter of savagery.

"Well, at least we know the murderers aren't with the Foot." Leo mentioned, breaking the heavy silence. All the bodies were dressed in flat black and purple sashes wrapped tightly around their waists. None had been dismembered, save for their heads, and all were lined neatly up against the brick wall behind yet another green dumpster.

Leo sighed greatly. He felt another headache, like that migraine he'd had earlier today, coming on at the sight of the mess they'd been left to discover.

"Leo, look!" Mikey whispered urgently, pointing to the rear of the dumpster.

**HAVING FUN? I AM.**

The cryptic message, neatly 'written' in drizzling blood, stared back mindlessly at the four brothers.

"What is this?" Donatello ruminated fearfully.

"Someone's playing with us." Raphael growled, yanking his Sais out in agitation. "I don't like this..."

* * *

A/N: Okay, more demented writing from me. I hope I didn't scare anyone; it's meant to intrigue. 


	2. Closer to Home

Chapter 2: Closer to Home...

Disclaimer: Don't own them in any aspect. I wish, though.

Here's the next installment:

* * *

And so went the days. 

The small clan of warriors continued their brave and just war against those that brought evil to their adopted and beloved home.

Michaelangelo was still a joker. Donatello was still the thinker. Raphael, the unpredictable, and Leonardo, the machine.

Michaelangelo continually made jokes of his habits. Wake up, eat breakfast, kill himself in the dojo, shower, eat lunch, kill himself in the dojo again, eat dinner, and then relieve Donatello on night patrol, thus killing his body more.

Then sleep. Sweet sleep. Free from dreams, good or bad; that was his goal. No more nightmares, and make believe chances that he could save Father- just the still slumber of the innocent.

Leonardo's breath came quickly as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, chasing invisible threats on a nightly perimeter run he oft performed sans siblings.

Jump! Land! Race off again.

_Face it, 'fearless leader'_ he mocked of himself, _ You couldn't do anything to save him. You just stood there as those humans mowed him down. Those ones he tried to protect from the hoodlums robbing their store!_

Leo paused, laboring for oxygen in the cold December night, bent over a ledge not unlike the ones near the assaults that, from time to time, plagued his mind.

_Oooh_, he mentally anguished, placing two fingers to his throbbing temples. _ That sound…_

He whirled about, hearing footsteps creeping around a bend in the four story complex.

Stealing about the corner he drew a katana as silently possible, in case his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. As he rounded the corner, ignoring the throbbing in his temples, his mind began to wander towards his fears for his family, his friends and the fact that he hadn't been able to save their Father, Splinter, from a simple pack of humans- weak ones at that…

_…Shotgun blast roaring through my ears, watching, STANDING there as Father was blown away! WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME! Why couldn't I save him!_

Leonardo jerked, reality hitting him as suddenly, and hard, as a piano dropped from a skyscraper.

_Where am I?_ He thought, blinking at the change in surroundings. He was maybe fifteen feet from his point of departure into his conscious, pounding headache evaporated.

_Stupid_. He thought, irritated at himself. _Foolish of me to let my mind wander on a patrol. Shouldn't that priveledge be reserved for Mikey? _He mused wryly, thumbing his still drawn sword. He noted, with dissatisfaction that he'd managed to make a shallow cut on his hand, as indicated by small spots of ruby red along the razor edge. After a brief inspection, he couldn't fina any markings on his palms. _Odd._

Noting that the bizarre throbbing was gone, Leo noted the time, and beat a hasty retreat back to the lair, just in time to wake Raphael up for his dawn patrol, and get his chance to catch some well needed rest.

After polishing his blade, of course.

* * *

Raphael grumbled to himself in a semi-concious state of sleepiness, cursing his brothers, his luck, and fate in general as he made his way topside through the sewers. Slipping on some muck and slime he cursed louder, ankle deep in some of the refuse and liquids that littered the tunnels outside their home. 

_What's that smell?_ He grouched, wrinkling his beak in disgust. Pushing his way past a heap of garbage some idiot had dumped down a manhole he made his way to his 'secret hideout' he often visited when Leonardo woke him up at ungodly hours.

The smell was getting stronger, he noted, as the tunnel grew darker and darker around him. Shaking his head to clear thoughts of childhood fears, he pulled aside a matte gray drapery he used to conceal the hole in the wall he'd made his personal 'alone-space' when the family grew too bothersome.

Sighing upon realization that the always lit candle for Splinter was out, he fumbled through the dark for the box of matches he kept in case such things happened, felt something squishy and wet, made a retching noise, and struck.

The match burned, the soft wavering light glittering upon piles of wet spheres, puddles of inky color, and cheese soft matter. Realization set in, and Raphael bellowed in shock and disgust.

_Eyes_.

There were eyes piled everywhere on his shrine- _real_ ones too- in various states of freshness and decay, some he assumed came from the vicious attack weeks ago. Swallowing his bitterly rising gorge, he lit the candle, struck another match, its resounding skritch sending crawlies through his shell.

With the added light he could see the message that blasphemed his temple and sanctuary.

GET OVER IT. YOU'RE NEXT, TOUGH GUY….

Painted again in blood and spattered this time with brain matter, the simple sentence screamed a sirens wail of terror to the tough turtle, as did the caricature of a headless Splinter. There was no mistaking the kimono the Master always wore.

Raphael screamed.

_"MIIIIIIKKKEEEEEEYYY_!"

* * *

Mumbles reached his ears through a haze of sedation and pain. 

_'… why my name though?' one said. 'He hates me!'_

_'… he doesn't, he just has his own way of express…'_

"Ah gods," Raphael moaned, before jerking upright in bed. "Ya gotta tell me that was justa bad dream." he asked, fixating his piercing stare upon those surrounding him.

Seeing his brother's faces and expressions for the first time in what would later be declared hours, he saw it was not. All three were pale as ghosts, Donatello stirring up a serum, then plunging a needle into the mixture. He tapped it, point skyward to disturb and remove all air, quietly asking his elder brother to hold out his left arm. Blindly, Raphael laid it out, flexing his muscles in preparation for the short, stabbing pain- which was unexpectedly followed by flooding warmth that traveled up his bloodstream. He felt his spasming muscles slowly loosen, following the sensation of the warmth flowing with his blood.

"Raph…" Leo whispered, laying a hand on his brother's arm tenderly, eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. Upon being unable to sleep, he'd padded out of the lair for another one of his 'midnight marathons' through New York, when he'd heard his brother's cry of fear. Upon reaching the source, he'd come to a dead halt seeing his brother passed out amongst a mess of cheesy gray matter, eyeballs, Splinter's old kimono, fire already catching at the hem. Blood was splashed all up and down his brother's torso, arms and legs, and with a cry Leonardo had slapped out the flames, grabbed his brother and fled the nightmare, crashing into the lair, waking the others and beginning a fright to last until Raphael woke.

"M'ok bro." Raph muttered, tremors continuing to race along his arms, despite the medecine, shaking the linen that covered him on the medical bed in Donatello's laboratory. "Wasn't my blood."

"We know Raphael," Donatello soothed, laying his tools aside to hand his shaking brother a cup of tea. The cup rattled on the saucer when Raphael took it, sipping at the hot liquid.

"Who's was it then?" Michealangelo, of all turtles, asked with his arms crossed defensively over his chest, eyingv his brother strangely.

Raphael growled menacingly. "You think I did that?" He roared, hurling the tea at the youngest turtle, knocking over the bedside table, upsetting several monitors in Donnie's workshop.

"That's not what Mikey meant," Leonardo intervened, glaring hard at the orange masked one, who scowled in turn. "What he meant was that he, we, all want to know how you found that place? And why there was blood and… other things… around you."

"How the freaking hell should I know!" Raphael shouted, raising his arms is frustration.

"Well… did you notice anything unusual when you were heading out?" Donatello asked, pulling Raph's left arm back down, a cotton swab doused with iodine at the ready. Raph hissed as the antibacterial solution burned and cleansed his needle-wound. "After all, you hadn't been gone long, had you?" He peered into his brother's eyes, gently concerned.

"Naw," Raph ascertained, shaking his head. "I'd still been in the sewers, taking a different route to my patrol spot." He decided not to include his reasons for taking a different route- his need to pay homage to their deceased father. They wouldn't understand.

"Well, I guess we've found out the killer's hideout." Mike spoke up, his features oddly closed. "Now we gotta do something about him."

Leo sighed. How unlike his youngest brother, wanting to go out and immediately start something. "Honestly, Mike, I'd rather wait and try to observe him before we do anything." He smirked, in hopes of garnering a smile. "We night even get lucky and trap him."

"I still think he needs to be got now." Mike stated firmly, refusing to give ground to his older brother. Now that family was involved, it was getting personal. 'Who knows what this freak-show knows about us? He could be waiting right outside this room to cut us to pieces like all those others we saw!" Mike pounded his fist into the flat of his palm for emphasis, "We need to stop him. _Now_."

"Mike… we need a plan first. Why don't we all go get some sleep, or something, so we have fresh minds for tomorrow's planning." Leo suggested, rubbing his temples. _Damn migraines… feels like a jackhammer in my head..._

"Whatever, bro." Mike threw up his hands and stormed out yanking the door shut behind him. Closely following Donnie's slammed door, Mike's echoed through the station.

Don sighed. "Kids."

"No kidding."

* * *

A/N: Wow, kind of a slow start. Next chapter should be interesting, I hope. Please R and R! 


End file.
